There had
been no pain in that death, the second for the sake of Grey Molly.
"The other two!" said the sheriff, more to himself than to Vic, who stood
beside him.
"Easy, Pete," he cautioned. "You got nothin' agin Haines and Daniels."
The sheriff flashed at him that hungry, baffled glance.
"Maybe I can find something. You Gregg, keep your mouth shut and stand
back. Halloo!"
He sent a long call quavering between the lonely mountains.
"You yonder--Lee Haines! D'you give up to the law?"
A burst of savage laughter flung back at him, and then: "Why the hell
should I?"
"Haines, I give you fair warnin'! For resistin' the law and interferin', I
ask you, do you surrender?"
"Who are you?"
The big voice fairly swallowed the rather shrill tone of the sheriff.
"I'm sheriff Pete Glass."
"You lie. Whoever heard of a sheriff come sneakin' round like a coyote
lookin' for dead meat?"
Pete Glass grinned with rage.
"Haines, you ain't much better'n spoiled meat if you keep back. I gave you
till I count ten--"
"Why, you bob-tailed skunk," shouted a new voice.
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